


Keep Going

by trainmango



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Parallel Universes, the scorch trial spoiler warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3362159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trainmango/pseuds/trainmango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>What if we led a second life on the other side of our dreams, a life we forgot the moment we woke up? Which one is real, and which one is the dream? When do we start living, and when do we fall asleep?</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Going

**Title:** Keep Going  
**Pairing:** Minho / Newt  
**Genre:** romance  
**Lenght:** 2k  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own tmr, only this story.

 

___________

 

Minho is woken up by heat pressing harshly on his skin. He can feel the sun hitting his arms, his chest, his cheeks. A bit on his forehead, too. The sunlight draws elusive shapes in reds and whites on the back of his eyelids. It’s strangely hot, abnormally hot; the Glade is never this hot, he thinks. He also worries about the fact that he was just sleeping in broad daylight, instead of getting active, helping out, running. He didn’t pass out in the middle of the maze, did he? He feels the surface underneath his fingers; it’s fabric, soft but a bit rough. He exhales, his senses relaxing momentarily. He’s surely not in the maze. He opens an eye but is instantly blinded by the sun above him.

  
« Get down here, shank! » It’s Gally’s voice, a bit distant. There’s laughter following, and then something like a scream, and a voice similar to Alby’s although he doesn’t catch the words. There’s the sound of water too, a lot of water crashing on a hard surface. Like waves. Yes, definitely waves. Waves?

  
Shielding his face from the light, he sits up slowly and opens his eyes.

  
There’s the cloudless sky stretching out before him, and the ocean spread under it, waves cutting hundreds of sharp knives in the rays of light reflecting on the surface. The shouting and laughing come from a group of boys playing in the water, too far for him to recognize them well. He’s a bit confused. He feels like he’s not supposed to be here. Like he should be somewhere else entirely, but he’s not sure where. There’s a lingering thought in his head, more like an emotion, shapes, vague colors. He can’t remember. He sees someone getting out of the water and walking towards him.

  
« You finally woke up! What are you doing, sleeping on our first day of vacation, you shucking idiot? »

  
Newt is standing a few feet from him, his arms crossed over his bare chest. Water drips from his hair, his skin, his brown and blue swimming trunks. The sun makes his pale skin glisten and Minho wonders how he still hasn’t gotten sunburnt. Which makes him remember the unpleasant sensation he had felt earlier. He looks down on his forearm, red spots covering his skin. There’s some under his knees too, and when he touches his face he feels the heat radiating through his fingers.

  
« You got fried man! This is hilarious. » To his right Newt has reached him, kneeling beside him on the towel he had been laying on, toes sinking into the sand. Newt’s smile makes him dizzy. Hands come up to his face, fingers pressing on his cheeks, under his eyes, on the bridge of his nose. Drops of cold water fall on his own skin, sending a shiver through the nape of his neck. Strands of gold hair stick to Newt’s face, his fringe falling in front of his eyes.

  
« I can draw smileys by pressing on your sunburns. This is ridiculous. » Newt says, and he laughs. Water makes his eyelashes stick together. He lifts his hands to Newt’s face, one hand to his forehead and upwards, removing the hair shielding the boy’s face. Newt leans into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment. Minho tries to shake the foreign sensation still nagging the back of his mind, like his brain’s trying to tell him something significant. He has this weird sensation, like this moment’s important. Newt opens his eyes, and he looks at him in worry.

  
« Are you alright? »

  
« Yeah, I think I just had a bad dream. »

  
« What was it? »

  
« I don’t really remember. It’s fine. »

  
Newt gets up, grabbing Minho’s hands with his own. When Minho looks up, Newt is looking down at him in return, with a half smile and Minho is blinded again. He gets up as well, Newt firmly holding on to his hand, leading him into the ocean.

________

 

Minho wakes up so suddenly it takes him a moment to remember how to breathe. His heart’s beating a mile an hour, and it feels as if the whole room is rotating. He’s drenched in cold sweat, covers bundled up at the foot of the bed. He’s exhausted, as if he’d been running for a long time, as fast as he could’ve ever ran. There’s this weird thought, this vague emotion again, like he’s missing out on something terribly important. Somehow it’s like he had been running away, but also like he’d been trying desperately to reach something. Or someone. Newt’s face comes up unexpectedly in the middle of all this. Even more than usual, he feels like he won’t see him ever again. He’s trapped behind walls, and Newt continues to live his life on the other side.

  
He can’t seem to slow down his heartbeat, the darkness looking back at him filling his lungs and his ears and his mouth until his mind draws a blank. He shuts his eyes as tight as he possibly can, but the absence of Newt in this moment is the only evidence, it screams at him, tearing at his eyelids to open so he can realize again how empty and silent this room is.

  
A loud melody resounds from somewhere in his room. A ringtone; _his_ ringtone. He focuses his attention on the sound, and not totally grasping the fact that someone’s calling him at three in the morning, he quickly spots the faint glow emitted from his cellphone, reaches out to the device and answers.

  
« ...hello? » The voice is shaky, and Minho almost misses it. It’s Newt.

  
« Minho? Are you there? I’m sorry I woke you up. » Minho feels like crying, or maybe just screaming. Really loudly. Or laughing. There’s a four hours difference in time zones between them but it feels like nothing at all.

  
« Yeah, I’m here. What’s up? Did anything happen? »

  
It was a dream, Newt says. His voice stays quiet but cracks around the edges. He tells Minho that he can’t really remember much of it, aside from towering walls and doors trapping Minho in darkness. It’s blurry, but there’s this emotion making his thoughts boil over. He says they won’t see each other again. He repeats it over and over until Minho can’t hear him anymore.

  
It’s unusual for Newt to break like this. Minho knows the other boy had always been the most scared, anxious, unsure. It’s just that he never showed any of it. He never liked discussing his emotions, he’d always try to hide any weaknesses.

  
It’s funny, he thinks, that Newt had called in the exact moment he felt he’d loose it, and although they seem to share the same concern, the same uneasiness, hearing the other boy’s voice helps. It reminds him that Newt exists in his life and just that’s fine, for now.

  
« I’m right here. » Minho says. « I’m still here. »

________

 

It feels like a lightning bolt, something violent and a foreign sensation, like dread, like fatality, crashing unto him all at once and at full speed, from all its weight, freezing him in place. He opens his eyes in an instant, gasping for air, his heartbeat uncontrollable. Something’s missing. It’s Newt. Newt died. He’s not there. He’s not with him anymore.

  
He tries to focus on where he is but dark spots shield his vision. He remembers extreme heat. He remembers extreme coldness, and in his panic he thinks he can hear the echoes of someone crying.

  
He finally succeeds in moving, only slightly. He touches the comforter under him tentatively, closing his eyes to try and remove all these spots and weird shapes obscuring his sight.

  
His hand suddenly touches something. When Minho opens his eyes again, he can see everything. The white walls, shelves with textbooks and comics pilled up, dark blue curtains filtering the morning light, and a body, right beside him. In this exact moment, air enters his lungs again, and he realizes he’d been holding his breath.

  
« Newt! _Newt_! » He pulls down on a shoulder and pushes himself up, almost losing his balance in his panic induced state. He grabs the head of the boy underneath him, shaking it gently despite the urgency in his movements.

  
« Newt, oh my god Newt, wake up! Please wake up! » The other boy scrunches up his nose, his hand coming to sloppily hit Minho on the side of his head.

  
« Mmmmh… what? What’s going on? What time is it? » Newt mumbles, sleep still holding on to his consciousness, dreams vanishing gradually. His hands come up to rub at his face, and he opens his eyes slowly, his annoyed expression quickly replaced by one of worry when he sees Minho above him, out of breath and trembling.

  
« Are you alright? What happened? »

  
Minho doesn’t know what to do. It was a dream, he thinks. Only a dream. Newt is right there. Newt is alive, right in front of him, hair sticking out in odd directions on the pillow, folds of the bedsheets marking his cheek. He feels like crying all of a sudden, but he has the strange impression that the tears building up aren’t quite his. When Newt’s fingers touch his face, and he looks down, he sees drops falling on the boys’ skin. The hands pull his face down and they’re kissing, lightly, slowly. When they separate, Minho’s breathing has slowed down, along with his heart, along with his thoughts.

  
« I’m sorry. I’m sorry. » Minho says. He tries to concentrate on Newt’s hands running through his hair. He focuses on the sensation, and tries to speak again.

  
« I- I thought you were dead. I thought you died. I’m sorry I woke you up. I don’t know what’s going on with me.

  
« Hey, it was a dream, it was only a dream. Minho, _calm down_. »

  
They kiss again, this time deeper, and it’s as if Newt wanted to prove him he’s really alive, it’s as if Minho tried to memorize the feeling, engrave it in his mind, just in case. He burns it all into his head, the way Newt’s nails dig through the hair on his nape, the movement of his lips, the way his knees brush against his sides, his legs wrapping around him. He’d never been so frightened in his life. He’d never felt a sense of loss this strong, this definitive, and in the back of his thoughts still swarming into remnants of the nightmare, he wonders why it had felt so real. Newt places his hands on both sides of Minho’s head, looking straight into him, and presses their foreheads together. He laughs, and Minho thinks it’s the only sound he needs to hear for the rest of his life. It chases away the lingering darkness in his heart, and builds up a familiar weight in his gut. It flows inside him, fills him until he’s smiling through pants and low moans he can’t even hear coming out of his mouth.

  
When he looks at Newt in this exact moment, his eyes shut and strands of hair sticking to his forehead, when he hears Newt say his name in that tone that makes him lightheaded, he’s not sure if he’s really awake.

 

It’s weird how sometimes, waking up really feels like falling asleep. If Newt is with him, Minho thinks, he doesn’t mind not waking up.

 

  
  
__________

 

A/N

Here’s another short I just pulled out of my head. I would’ve really liked it to be longer, but I just can’t seem to control these things. The title doesn't really make sense, but it felt right somehow, at 2am. Anyway, Minewt is my current favorite pairing. I’d like to use this concept for something longer, maybe chaptered, but I fail to see how this could happen considering my poor writing speed… Also, it feels like I have a thing for sleep and dream related stories, I need to branch out!!! I swear I can write about other stuff…

Thanks for reading and commenting, like always. Tell me if you spot any mistake, too. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kocha__b)   
> 


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